


Headaches (both figurative and literal, unfortunately).

by BecausePlot



Series: Lost and Found in the Arctic [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Minor Violence, Panic Attacks, Techno POV, Techno wants to make an omelette, Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), The Eggpire, Winged!Philza, also i get distracted by philza in the first chapter, based off of technos egg stream, brief mention of dissociation, chat is here too, im late to the party i know, nothin graphic, only a little, this fic is lazy and i apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29914212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecausePlot/pseuds/BecausePlot
Summary: - Technolate Eeeeee Technolate Technolate Technolate Technolate Technolate /rainbowchat Technolate Technolate -Techno’s arm shot out from beneath the covers, and he blindly groped around on the nightstand for his communicator. Once he’d gotten it, he held it up in front of his face, cracked his eyes open, and squinted at the time. With a heavy sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut and let his hand drop. “Chat, it’s literally not even seven yet, whaddya mean, ‘Technolate’?”- Technolate Techno!! Eee Lmaoooo Technolate Hi Techno!! Hi Hello Good morning! Blood God!!!! Eeee Hi Hi Hello Hiya Hello! Good morning -Techno massaged his forehead. “I hate you guys, I - I actually hate you.”~*~Or, Techno already has enough voices in his head to deal with. He doesn't need the added headache of an egg-obsessed cult, especially when said cult goes after his neighbor.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade, Technoblade & Phil Watson
Series: Lost and Found in the Arctic [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127120
Comments: 11
Kudos: 348





	1. Not a Wink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is kinda lazy and kinda dogwater, but I'm gonna post it anyway because I need this for set up for another fic I have in mind that will hopefully be better (and shorter) than this one. Very sorry if this one's not up to snuff :') I hope it's still enjoyable regardless.
> 
> Oh, btw, there are references to the previous one shot in this series, "Just a little weighed down." in this one shot, so if you haven't read that one, then you might be a little confused, especially in the first chapter. (I got /so/ sidetracked by Philza you have no idea - )
> 
> Anyways, thanks to Jem for beta-reading as always! Love ya fren <3

**_\- BLOOD VIOLENCE POG YEAH BLOOD KILL BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD KILL BLOOD TECHNOBLADE LETS GOOO KILL BLOOD BLOOD YEAH DEATH VIOLENCE BLOOD FOR THE -_ **

A grunt rumbled low and fierce in Techno’s chest as he carved a chasm through a zombie’s back with one clean slash of his netherite sword. The poor, unsuspecting creature was dead before its rotting corpse hit the ground, painting the newly fallen snow with a splash of dark crimson. Techno grinned in sharp satisfaction.

**_\- BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD KILL BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD DEATH BLOOD -_ **

Dodging an arrow of a stray, Techno expertly flicked through his inventory and grabbed his bow without a second thought. He answered the arrow with one of his own, then pivoted to fell a creeper that he’d heard sneaking up behind him a few seconds before. Once the green-faced monster had dissolved into a miserable little pile of gunpowder, Techno switched back to his sword and thrust it into the skull of a spider. He yanked it out and cut down another zombie, taking its shoulder off in one fell swoop.

**_\- BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD -_ **

The zombie’s body hit the ground with a thud. Suddenly, the only sounds in the forest were a midnight gale scurrying between the trees and his own huffs of exertion. The abrupt lack of noise caused him to pull his lantern out of his inventory and scan the surrounding woodlands, sword still clutched in his grasp. He was met with the sight of dozens of monster corpses littered across the snow. A glance behind him showed the path he had taken through the forest tonight, a telling trail of scattered remains. Orbs of experience drifted lazily around the devastation, floating on supernatural winds that remained indifferent to the maddened gallop of winter across the Arctic.

Techno turned his head this way and that. Over the incessant chant of the voices, he heard no other groans or cries of the damned. He’d successfully cleared the area of all hostile mobs. 

**_\- BLOOD BLOOD Blood! Blood! Blood! Yeah technoblade!!! Go techno!! Violence pog -_ **

It was only then that he allowed himself to relax. Sucking in that frigid breeze in an attempt to catch his breath, Techno placed the lantern at his feet to free up his hand so that he could adjust his winter cloak, hiking it up higher on his shoulders. “How many was that, Chat?” he managed between pants.

**_\- 34 I think it was 40ish Eee Wait whats he asking? 39 17 Idk 26 We were supposed to keep track??? 36 Hes asking about how many mobs he killed IT WAS 41 YOU GUYS!! Eeee 29 32 50 Probably at least 2 /rainbow chat 52 48 Pretty sure it was around 40 69 Eeeeee 35 Haha nice -_ **

“You guys are just... _ terrible _ at countin’.” 

Techno pushed the tip of his sword into the snow and leaned his arm on the pommel. The adrenaline was swiftly draining from him; he could feel exhaustion starting to pull at his bones. Blowing out a long, steady breath, he dropped his head and stared at the snow beneath his filthy boots.

**_\- Lol weak GO AGAIN GO AGAIN!! Weak Weak Mmm pathetic Technoweak Weaksauceeee Guys be nice pls BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD Again!!!! Weak Weak Lmao weakkk -_ **

Techno exhaled, rolling his eyes. “Chat, it’s not that I’m weak, it’s just that it’s currently  _ two in the morning _ . Some of us need to sleep.”

**_\- SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK HAHA Who needs sleep???? not me no sir /rainbowchat Weak Weak Dont be mean!! Weeeaaakk Eeeeee We need more violence MORE BLOOD Violence!! Again Eee Again Again Again Again Again Stop spamming! Again Wooo round two baybeee!!!! -_ **

For the briefest moment, he was tempted by the idea, part of him desiring to follow Chat’s demands and sink his sword into another dozen or so unaware monsters. He could detect the urge taking hold in the way that his heart started to pound right along to the beat of the voices’ excitement. But, he shook his head, clearing his mind. It was two in the morning, he reminded himself, and he was exhausted. No matter how much he or Chat might want to, it would be stupid of him to keep going. “I’m not doing that again. You guys got your blood, now it’s time for you to hold up your end of the deal and  _ be quiet _ .”

**_\- Boring I want violence Technolame Guys let him sleep hes tired Technotired Technolame VIOLENCE! Technotired Sleepy boi Eeee Againnnn Technotired Technotired Booooooo I want blood! SHHHHHH Yall hes tired please be respectful Technotired Technolame -_ **

Chat was much easier to ignore when their wants weren’t unanimous; so, as Chat squabbled amongst themselves, Techno straightened himself out and picked up his lantern. Then, he turned and started back for the cabin, stepping around the countless bodies of fallen mobs and picking up stray experience orbs as he went. The glittering lights danced around his boots, tinkling like windchimes. It was a pleasant, familiar sound, something else to focus on other than the thousands of voices arguing in the back of his head.

This was the third time this week that Chat had pulled him from his slumber at an unreasonable hour of the morning demanding blood. The first time, he ignored them, rolling over and waiting for them to give up so that he could go back to sleep. The second time, they had been louder, so he headed down to the living room, started a fire in the fireplace, pulled out a book, and read for a couple hours before retiring to his bed once more. This time around, the sheer volume of their screams made their demands undeniable, so Techno - head nearly splitting in two from the unrelenting cries for violence - stumbled out of bed, threw on a chestplate and cloak, and slipped into the frigid night with his sword in hand.

So here he was, about forty minutes later, cold and exhausted and perhaps just a bit miserable. Or a lot miserable. He was too tired at the moment to deal with emotions.

Chat continued to debate the matter despite the fact that Techno was on his way home and nothing they said could change his mind. A few of the smarter ones realized what he was doing and started to protest, but he waved them off. With their thirst for blood somewhat satiated for the moment, they had lost much of their volume. Their remarks were once more dismissable. Given time, the din would reduce to a hum, and he could finally get some shuteye. 

When the cabin finally came into view, Techno quickened his pace, slogging through the snow with whatever energy he had left. Moving was easier with the wind to his back, and he made it to the front door of the lower level in decent time. After dismissing his sword into his inventory, Techno closed the shutters of his lantern a bit tighter to restrict some of the light. 

He knew Phil was a light sleeper, so with his bedroom right there on the first floor, Techno had to be careful. He pulled the door open slowly to avoid the hinges squealing, stepped inside, and guided the door shut behind him. He was glad he hadn’t put on his gloves and greaves when he decided to head out. At the time, it was mostly because he couldn’t be bothered and was  _ just _ barely awake enough to have the wherewithal to strap on at least a chestplate. Now it meant that he didn’t make a racket trying to move about the downstairs room, shimmying out of his heavy winter cloak and pulling off his sparse armor. Both were hung in their respective places, and the lantern was put back on its hook by the door.

Techno took a moment to bask in the warm stillness of the cabin, letting the heat thaw him out from his excursion into the glacial night. 

**_\- Home Home Cabin pog Home I love the cabin soooo much Home Home Home -_ **

Techno had noticed over the past couple months that the cabin always soothed Chat to some degree whenever he stepped inside. It was easy to see why. The cabin was reminiscent of simpler times, back before the Antarctic Empire became one of the most powerful factions of the region and it was just him and Phil joking around about taking over the world; and, the cabin wasn’t unlike their little farm town getaway after the Fall. Techno wasn’t often prone to nostalgia, but the little buzz of serenity from Chat was undeniable. Tonight, he blamed his fatigue for being so susceptible to the sensation.

Techno, after lingering in the relative peace for a moment longer, nodded to himself, then knelt down to unlace his boots. As he did so, he got a real good look at himself. Needless to say, he was covered in the evidence of his violence, and his clothes would need to be thoroughly scrubbed. Well, it wasn’t like he’d never had to do that before. If he was smart enough, he could coerce Phil into washing them for him.

The thought made him glance up at the entrance to Phil’s room. Just as it had been for the past few nights, the door was left ajar.

**_\- Philza! Is Phil okay? Philza Minecraf!!! Hes been having nightmares again Check Check on him His poor wings... Philza has trauma fs in the chat Check F F Check on him F F F Check F Traumaza? F F Guys stop it F F Check on him Check on Phil -_ **

For the first time that evening (morning?), Techno and Chat agreed. Hoping the wraps around his hooves would be enough to muffle the sounds of his footsteps, Techno stood and crept over to Phil’s door. He nudged it open with the back of his hand. To his surprise, Phil didn’t have his lantern lit like he had the previous nights, though he did see that the curtains were still drawn open, allowing him a good view of the night sky from a glance. If he were to look now, he probably wouldn’t see much of anything, just clouds rolling past on midnight winds. Still, Techno knew that Phil needed the reminder sometimes.

As for Phil himself, he was sound asleep. While Techno closed the distance from the door to the bedside, he found that his friend was just like he usually was: curled up on his side like a coiled spring, back and wings as tight as a tripwire. Even in sleep, Phil was on guard. 

(In fact, for many of the years Techno had known him, Phil slept with a dagger in his hand, but the dagger had since graduated from beneath his pillow to a drawer in his nightstand - too many instances of accidentally poking himself. Still, Techno had no doubts that Phil could get his hands on that weapon in less than two seconds flat, even if he was emerging from a dead sleep.)

That was great and all, especially for someone like Phil, but at the same time, it was horrible for his back muscles. Cocooning yourself in your wings was one thing, unconsciously shielding yourself from an unseen attack for hours on end was another. That was why Techno came in to check on his friend during the night whenever he happened to be passing by.

Techno stood at the bedside. He lifted his hands and gradually settled them onto the tops of Phil’s wings. Then, with gentle movements, he guided the appendages down into a more comfortable resting position, encouraging the muscles to relax. He knew he’d succeeded when Phil’s hiked up shoulders eased and his wings drooped, resting more of their weight against the mattress. A meaningless mumble fell out of Phil’s lips, and he buried his face deeper into the crook of his elbow. Otherwise, he didn’t stir.

The shift in the wings gave Techno a better view of Phil’s back. The sight of the faded, whitish scars greeted him. They traced the outline of past atrocities that would never be forgotten, not by Phil -

**_\- Oh no the scars The scars Clamps Nets Clamps Clamps They hurt him Backstabbers Snakes Liars Traitors Traitors Liars Traitors TRAITORS DEATH TO THE TRAITORS KILL THEM BURN THEIR FACTIONS TO THE GROUND THEY HURT HIM KILL KILL KILL JUSTICE FOR PHILZA BLOOD -_ **

\- and  _ certainly _ not by Techno. 

He pulled his hands away from Phil’s wings and padded out of the room. “We’ll get ‘em, Chat,” he murmured as he nudged the door shut behind him, stopping it from closing all the way with the tips of his fingers. He started up the stairs. “Not tonight, but we will eventually. We’ll make ‘em pay.”

The thought satisfied him for now. It seemed to appease the voices too, as the wave of their aggression ebbed. He continued up the stairs, passing through the living room on the second floor to take the sheer wooden step ladder up to his room in the attic. He placed his sword in its usual spot beside his bed, and he changed into some fresh sleep clothes, tossing his bloodied garments aside to deal with later. He found that, predictably, Chat began to settle down. They’d gotten their little dose of blood and excitement, enough to keep them sated until they got bored again. Meanwhile, Techno was ready to lay down and sleep for the next several hours.

So he pulled his duvet up high towards his chin and dozed off into surprisingly peaceful slumber.

  
  
  
  
  


**_\- Technolate Eeeeee Technolate Technolate Technolate Technolate Technolate /rainbowchat Technolate Technolate -_ **

Techno’s arm shot out from beneath the covers, and he blindly groped around on the nightstand for his communicator. Once he’d gotten it, he held it up in front of his face, cracked his eyes open, and squinted at the time. With a heavy sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut and let his hand drop. “Chat, it’s literally not even seven yet, whaddya  _ mean _ , ‘Technolate’?”

**_\- Technolate Techno!! Eee Lmaoooo Technolate Hi Techno!! Hi Hello Good morning! Blood God!!!! Eeee Hi Hi Hello Hiya Hello! Good morning -_ **

Techno massaged his forehead. “I hate you guys, I - I  _ actually  _ hate you.”

Chat had the audacity to be offended by such a remark, so Techno spent his morning getting ready with a thousand disembodied presences figuratively sulking in the corner of the room. It was better than having them demand attention from him, at least. Other than that, Chat was in a relatively pleasant mood, not too rambunctious beyond the usual hubbub of questions, remarks, nonsensical phrases, and E’s. 

Wary of the fact that Phil was probably still asleep (no one in their right mind would get up before seven, and unfortunately for Techno, he was  _ never _ in his right mind), Techno took to corralling Chat by typing out little messages for them into the text box of his communicator without actually sending them through. It was something he’d been doing for awhile as a means of subtly communicating with Chat, mostly to tell them to shut up or to stop badgering him with the same question when he had to be quiet or others were around. As a result, he’d become fairly adept at typing quick messages single-handedly, leaving his other hand free.

After dressing and washing up the dried bloodstains on his face and hands he hadn’t bothered with the previous night, he headed down to the living room and went through his usual routine of morning stretches and movements. It was something he did to make sure his body and muscle memory was up to snuff. The voices teased him endlessly for it, saying he looked like an idiot standing alone in the middle of a room doing awkward standing exercises for twenty minutes straight, but by now, he knew that most of them were just messing with him. They didn’t much care what he did in regards to his physical fitness. If it meant that he was all the more prepared to spill blood, then they were content.

Breakfast was a simple affair of toast and eggs, a meal he ate in the living room because that was what he’d gotten used to over the past few weeks. He consumed in silence, occasionally typing a message for Chat while watching the sky brighten over the Arctic. There was still cloud coverage that morning. He wondered briefly if it would snow again. Phil would be able to tell. 

A glance at the clock on the wall told him it was a decent hour, so he headed back downstairs to brew some coffee. There was a reason that he hadn’t made himself any right away, and said reason emerged from his bedroom with his hair all askew and feathers mussed by sleep only a few minutes after the smell of the hot beverage began to permeate the cabin. 

**_\- Philza! ITS PHILZA!! Hi Phil! Phil Philzaaaa Sleepy phil Philza!! Sleepy boi -_ **

Just in case Techno had somehow managed to forget who his best friend of over thirty years was, Chat made sure to remind him because they were always so helpful like that.

Techno suppressed a grimace when he felt a headache coming on. Yeah,  _ so helpful _ .

Standing in the threshold, Phil stifled a yawn behind his fist, blinking against the sharp illumination of the lantern-lit room. “Morning, mate.”

“Mornin’,” Techno mumbled in reply. As Phil approached the counter, robes and wings swishing softly against the hardwood floors, Techno poured another mug of coffee. He passed it over to his friend who nodded his thanks and took a sip, leaning against the counter beside him.

Once an adequate amount of the beverage had been drained, Phil remarked, “They’re giving you trouble again, aren’t they?”

“Yup,” Techno replied without missing a beat, as he knew that there was no use arguing, not against Phil. “What gave it away?”

“You’ve got that look on your face that says you’re trying  _ really _ hard not to tell ‘em to piss off. And I heard you leave to go hunting last night.”

“How?”

“The hinges on the upstairs doors need to be oiled.”

“Ah. I’ll be sure to fix that today. Or tomorrow. Or sometime relatively soon.”

“Relative to what?”

Techno gave Phil a frank look and a shrug. The man chuckled into his mug, taking another sip with an understanding nod. “Yeah, there hasn’t been too much going on around here as of late, has there?”

Techno shook his head minutely. “It’s probably why Chat’s been acting up. They’re starting to get bored.” There was a chorus of agreements in the back of his mind. Sounded like he’d hit the nail on the head.

“You  _ did _ get a response back from Puffy, didn’t you?”

(Some days before, Techno had left the captain a not-too-subtle inquiry if she would be interested in joining their cause and to leave him a note if she was. Just yesterday, he’d returned home from a morning hunt with the dogs to find a note...block. 

...Alright, he had to admit, that was pretty clever. However, it left her overall response painfully unclear. In fact, the only reason he knew it was her who left the note block on the front porch was Ranboo, as Phil had been asleep in the house at the time, still dozing through the last of the soul sand poisoning. Techno had gone to speak with the young hybrid to ask if he’d seen who came by. Wringing his hands and hunched over enough to give Tommy’s posture a run for its money, Ranboo stammered out her name.

_ “Wh… Why was she here, Techno?” Ranboo murmured just as Techno made ready to leave. The gaze of his two-toned eyes stayed steadily on Techno’s boots, and shifted his weight from foot to foot, unsteady. “What’s going on?” _

_ Techno regarded the hybrid, noted his apparent anxiety, responded with a simple, “Nothing you have to be worried about,” and let the kid be. _ )

“Yeah, I did,” he answered Phil, “but I think I’m gonna need her to elaborate. The note block didn’t really tell me much about what she thought of the proposition. We’ll both have to speak to her at some point. Maybe we could hop in a VC or somethin’.”

“I think I’d like to meet with her in person,” Phil provided, and Techno nodded along, deciding he liked the sound of that better. “It would be a more proper evaluation, and we would be able to make sure that she’s in a secure location.”

“Feeling up for an interview, Phil?”

Phil tilted his head to the side and took a pensive sip of his coffee. “Maybe in a few days. I’d like to make sure that I’m fully back on my feet before meeting with someone for the Syndicate.”

“First impressions  _ are  _ important,” Techno agreed. It was one of the many things he and Phil had learned during their time commanding the Empire, mostly back in the early days when they were still looking for founding members. They’d discovered that they couldn’t build up the beginnings of a formidable faction if they didn’t look or act the part. This time around, they weren’t looking to start any empires, but maintaining a powerful image was important for individual interest and morale. 

Techno flickered his gaze to his friend, giving him a brief once-over. He appeared to be in much better health than he had a couple days ago, that was for sure. The pallor of his face was gone, and he didn’t hold himself so stiffly that it looked like he was trying to balance a cup of water on each shoulder anymore. The fact that he could drink coffee and not grumble about being nauseated by it was telling as well.

But he didn’t miss the shadows that clung to Phil’s face, a weight that hung off the bruises beneath his eyes. Chat saw it too, and they murmured to him about it like he never would have noticed otherwise. 

Phil met his stare for the briefest of moments. The creases of his face tightened ever so slightly as quiet acknowledgement overcame his expression: a wordless,  _ “I know, mate, and I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” _

So he didn’t. Or, at least, he took his concern and shelved it, reserving the feeling for another time when it became pertinent to Phil’s well being. They both knew how to handle rough nights and had learned how to function on less-than-ideal amounts of sleep, so he could trust Phil to say something if he needed to. Though, they didn’t often find need for words these days.

“Do you think you’re gonna try flying today?” Techno asked as Phil stepped away from the counter to gather the extra food Techno had thrown together onto a plate of his own. It was most definitely cold, something Phil discovered the hard way when he tried a bite of eggs and immediately grimaced.

Phil set the plate aside and swiftly lit the furnace so he could quickly reheat his food. “Oh, for sure,” he chirped. “Back hardly hurts now, so I’m definitely gonna give it a go.” 

Then, Phil’s wings did a few small flapping motions, almost as if the appendages themselves were excited by the thought. Techno couldn’t help but snort. 

“What?” said Phil, turning around with genuine confusion written all over his face. Even still, his wings continued their subtle twitching, up and down, up and down.

Techno felt a grin pulling at his lips. “Nothin’, Phil, just thought of something funny.”

Phil didn’t seem wholly convinced, but he returned his attention to the furnace anyway. It was several minutes before his wings settled down, and in the meantime, Techno got to amuse himself with the evidence of his friend’s apparent joy.

There had been numerous occasions over the years where Phil tried to explain to Techno what flying felt like. But, as a mere ground-dwelling creature who had no wings, trying to describe the exhilarating freedom of winged flight to Techno was like trying to describe the beauty of painted art to a bat, or the warmth of pure sunlight to a creature that lurked in the deepest regions of the sea. So, Techno just had to take Phil’s word for it when he said that it was “really fucking awesome.”

Trying to explain the soul-crushing  _ loss _ of being grounded was equally difficult, though Techno believed that he had a better understanding of it than its far more pleasant alternative. While he could never empathize, he had witnessed for himself what it could do to his friend, and that was enough for him to seek to prevent it in any way that he could.

It was also enough for him to crack a grin whenever Phil became giddy at the very idea of going for a flight for the first time in a while.

That was how they found themselves throwing on some winter clothes and heading out into the chilly late morning an hour later. Phil practically bounded out the door, jogging past the porch and into the shin-high snow so he could freely thrust his wings open to catch the breeze without being in danger of slamming them into walls or posts. The wind rumbled out a low whoosh against the feathery sails when they were unfurled. Techno heard his friend  _ giggle _ at the sound, wings pumping up and down with anticipation. He stared up at the winter grey sky with a hand atop his head to keep his hat from blowing away in the breeze.

“You’re not gonna try to do a standin’ take off, are you?” asked Techno, raising an eyebrow.

Philza froze as he came back down to Earth (figuratively, of course). “Er - no.” He folded up his wings and turned around to face Techno. His grin was a bit sheepish as he admitted with a chuckle, “Sorry, got a bit excited there for a second. We’ll have to head up the hill so I can get a good vantage point.”

Techno nodded. He knew this. Phil’s wings had gone through the cycle of injury and healing enough times for him to remember the steps of the recovery process. The first thing they needed to do was to get a good idea of what his wing strength looked like. Phil would be able to glide without a problem at the very least, but full-on flight was a whole other deal entirely. Luckily for them, they’d caught the injury early with regen pots and proper care. It shouldn’t take long for Phil to be back to doing fancy aerial maneuvers as easily as he laughed. 

So they headed around the back of the house to go take the trail up to the top of the hill. As they passed through the back yard, they spotted the resident enderman hybrid shuffling through the snow, nose buried in a notebook as he went back and forth between studying the outer walls of his shack and scratching away at the page with a charcoal pencil. It didn’t take long for the kid to notice them, and as always, he offered a kind wave and a, “Hi, good morning!”

**_\- Ranboo Ranboo Ranboo RANBOO MY BELOVED Ranboo Its the memory boyyyy Ranboo -_ **

“Good morning, Ranboo,” Phil responded for the both of them with an equally kind wave. “What’re you up to?”

“Renovations.”

“Again?”

“I keep getting leaks through the wooden boards,” the kid elaborated, pointing to the inefficient walls in question with the butt of his pencil. “You could, uh, you could imagine why that’s not the greatest. So, I’m gonna replace all the walls with stone. I’ll probably make upstairs bigger, too. I’m just drawing up some ideas right now.”

Phil gestured to the book. “Could I?”

Ranboo nodded happily and trotted across the yard, holding out the notebook to Phil. When Phil took it, Techno peeked over his friend’s shoulder to get a look at the plans himself. From what Techno could see of Ranboo’s concept sketches so far, it was going to be a pretty big upgrade, going from a simple one-room, one-story shack to a proper structure with two floors and an overhang to shield a small above-ground farm. There were little notes and ideas scrawled in the margins. Much of it was hardly legible, but Techno saw mentions of banners, red-green carpet (very on brand), obsidian floors, solid-coal walls, and quartz pillars.

“That’s going to take a lot of resources,” Techno remarked, flicking his gaze up to Ranboo.

The kid shrugged, two-toned eyes darting off to the side as per usual. “I already got all the materials, so I’m just trying to decide on the design right now.”

“You already got all this?” Phil repeated as he pointed to the list scrawled on the side. 

“Yep! Did some resource gathering last night, got everything I needed. I’m just waiting for the cobble in the blast furnaces to finish smelting. I would’ve used my silk touch pick, but it needed to be mended before I could finish my mining session, so I had to do the rest with my regular one.”

Techno raised an eyebrow. “How long did that take you?”

“Oh, uh, with all the other stuff I had to get? All night. Just got back, like, an hour ago, actually.”

It was then that Techno made note of Ranboo's fussed hair, dusted in a thin layer of grime. Techno supposed that his clothes would be equally messy, though the winter cloak thrown over his shoulders blocked much of it from view. He could tell that the kid’s trousers had seen better days though, scuffed with the evidence of deep cave mining and a brief trip to the Nether.

He also noticed the puffiness around Ranboo’s eyes and saw how the kid’s perpetual hunch was  _ just _ a bit more prevalent this morning.

“All night,” Phil repeated. His brow furrowed in that same way it did whenever Techno made an offhand comment about the voices giving him a hard time. The expression made his concern clear, but he somehow managed to keep his voice perfectly flat. Techno wasn’t sure what it was about the combination, but whenever Phil pulled out that expression and that tone, Techno always got the sense that he’d been caught somehow. Not necessarily in a bad way, but simply...confronted with his own truth.

There were not a lot of people that could make someone like  _ Technoblade _ feel cornered with nothing but a look and a handful of words. Techno just figured that, being a man who’d lived for so long and raised two mischievous boys (one of which grew up to own quite the silver tongue), Phil would have a few tricks up his sleeve.

“Well, uh...yeah.” Ranboo chuckled, running a gloved hand up and down his rumpled sleeve. “I mean, what else was I supposed to do?  _ Sleep? _ I don’t think so.”

**_\- Sleep Ranboo He’s not sleeping Ranboo Ranboo Whys he not sleeping?? Ranboo no!! He was up all night Enderwalk What if he sleep walked Ranboo go to bed pls i beg Sleep Sleep Dreams at it again i tell you Sleepy boi...? Dream Check the memory book Dream Dream This dude needs a therapist istg -_ **

Ever since Techno and Phil stumbled across Ranboo laying unresponsive in a dirt pit of his own making, Chat had been hyper focused on the connection between Dream and the enderman hybrid. Whenever Techno crossed paths with Ranboo - even if it was just for a few minutes - at least  _ one _ of the voices would make mention of the smiley faced figure. 

Techno and Phil had discussed this apparent connection between Ranboo and Dream a handful of times. It made sense, given the fact that Ranboo had once admitted to briefly being in possession of Tommy’s disks (something they had known) and possibly playing a part in the destruction of the Community House (something they had not known). Neither of those mattered to them, so they didn’t grill the kid on it too much, and he clearly did  _ not _ take pride in his actions given the way his hands shook so fiercely as he choked out the admissions. 

What  _ didn’t _ make sense was why Chat still obsessed over it, even weeks later. Dream was in prison now. The only thing that they knew that might have something to do with it was a singular incident where Phil, while visiting the mainland, stumbled across Ranboo striding briskly down the Prime Path with his head ducked down and his eyes half-lidded. Phil had called it ‘sleep walking’.

**_\- Sleepwalker Doesnt wanna sleep walk Enderwalking again Hes in control -_ **

And Chat liked to talk about it. A lot. 

“He’s got a point, Phil,” said Techno, filling the short silence that had befallen the conversation. “Like - sleepin’? And at night? That’s just crazy.”

Phil chuckled. “Alright, yeah, I suppose I’m not one to talk.” He handed the book back to Ranboo. “Looking forward to seeing this completed. It’s a good design.”

“Thank you,” chirped Ranboo. He closed up the notebook and folded his arms with it hugged to his chest. “Where are you guys headed? Uh, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Phil’s face visibly brightened. “We’re headed up the hill so I can do a test flight, see how my wings are fairing.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’m glad your back is doing better. Do you...think I could come? Kinda want to step away from the house building for a bit.”

“Sure, mate, follow us.”

The three of them hiked up the hill, dragging their boots through the snow. It was the same trail that Techno used to take to check on the beacon, but since Phil had taken over that job some weeks ago, the trail hadn’t been used in quite some time. Thus, it was piled with snow. It didn't slow them down too much, however, as Techno and Phil had long since learned how to walk up snowladden slopes and Ranboo’s unfairly long stride meant he could keep up without breaking a sweat. (Did endermen hybrids sweat? Wouldn’t that burn him? Techno would have to ask.)

On the way, Techno found himself chatting with Ranboo about experience farms and how it was so inconvenient to have to head all the way to the village to buy experience bottles or head towards the mainland to repair weapons at the guardian farm or spider spawner. The latter was especially difficult given the fact that Techno and Phil weren’t exactly welcome in the Dream SMP. They started discussing the possibility of finding a spawner somewhere in the Arctic. 

Ranboo laughed as they made it up to the top of the slope, commenting, “We’ve really gotta settle on a single project. Like, we started the new Nether portal hub but shelved it, and then  _ I’m _ trying to upgrade my house so I don’t get any more leaks, and now we’re talking about exp farms.”

“To be fair, the exp farm is something that we actually kinda need,” said Techno. “I’m always one to go huntin’, sure, but sometimes you just wanna repair your armor real quick and not spend three hours walkin’ around the snowfields looking for mobs.”

“Having multiple projects going at once isn’t bad,” Phil added, striding ahead to check around the edges of the hilltop. “During the in-between years, I think I had about four builds going at any given time. Besides, the Nether portal things can easily be put on the back burner, and if we never get to it, we can just use the materials for something else. Could even sell them down at the village for some emeralds.” 

“Nether stuff goes for high prices,” reminded Techno. Phil stopped his search at a ledge across the way that looked out over the settlement. He half extended a wing, most likely noting the way the wind pushed or tugged at the appendage. Over here, Techno found that the breeze was to their backs. “Good spot?”

“About as good as a spot can be.” Phil took his bucket hat off his head, stashed it away in his inventory, and produced a hair tie. As he pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, he turned to walk away from the ledge. Techno raised an arm and urged Ranboo to take a few steps back with him to give Phil a little more space to work with. 

Phil turned back around about twenty meters from where he’d originally stood. His hands came to adjust his winter cloak as his wings shook themselves out, pumping with anticipation once again. The excitement was reflected in the shine of Phil’s eyes and the radiant grin stretched across his face. Chat was equally enthusiastic, rambling on about flying and freedom and Phil’s childlike glee. 

Briefly, Phil’s eyes darted to Techno. Techno just tilted his head in response:  _ “What’re you waiting for?” _

A beat later, and Phil’s gaze was back on the horizons. He placed one foot in front of the other, aimed, and broke off into a jog that swiftly mounted into a sprint. Behind him, his wings began to flap with intent, urging him onward with every step. 

As he came to the ledge, he took one last long, powerful stride and pushed off. A cloud of powdery surface snow was kicked up by his boots and the swelling wind created by his wings. 

**_\- CMON PHIL AAAAA HES SO HAPPY GUYS GO PHILZA!!! WE HAVE LIFTOFF BOYS HES FLYING BIRDZA POG LETS GOOO!!! -_ **

For the first time in three days, Phil was airborne. 

Techno was relieved to note that the take off was strong, hardly faltering. However, he did waver when he leveled off, wings wobbling in the wind as he worked to adjust. He dropped a few times and flapped furiously to make up the altitude. 

“I-Is he okay?” Ranboo piped up, pointing to Phil’s struggling form with a hesitant finger. 

“He’s fine,” Techno told him. “Just give him a minute.” 

Even still, Techno kept a keen eye on his friend, and he folded his arms so his hand might rest next to his communicator should he suddenly have need of it. 

As he was starting to stabilize his flight, Phil made a wide, banking turn. It was a sloppy maneuver but he executed it nonetheless. Then, he dipped low, purposefully diving so he could regain some of his speed before angling upwards again. The thumping of his wings reached Techno’s ears as he came back around, fighting against the wind. He climbed higher once more, far beyond the top of the hill, and reached the apex of his ascent a good eighty meters above their heads. 

He paused, suspended in the air for a long second before he arched and came down back-first, plummeting towards the snowy ground in free fall with no signs of stopping. 

Ranboo shifted. “Uhhh…”

“He’s fiiiiine,” Techno reminded the kid once again. “Phil knows what he’s doing.” 

(Phil also had a track record of being a little, say,  _ overzealous _ when he went for a flight for the first time in a while, but Techno decided to ignore that part.) 

Not a moment too soon, Phil spun around to face the swiftly approaching land, and his wings shot out to either side, putting his decent to a near screeching halt. He took his incredible amount of downward momentum and put it towards a low bearing swoop, letting out an elated shout as he coasted mere feet off the ground. 

“Woah!” Ranboo laughed as Phil came shooting past them, snow flurries chasing after his wingtips. 

Techno turned to watch him rocket away, then cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “SHOW OFF!!” The answering cackle just barely reached Techno’s ears, for Phil was already a good distance away. 

Techno and Ranboo watched Phil for a few more minutes as he tested the current limits of his mobility on the wild Arctic winds, dipping, diving, turning, and spinning in just about every way imaginable. Sometimes he was able to move unhindered; other times, he staggered in his motions or had to stop the maneuver altogether. Sharp turns seemed to be causing him the most trouble, and he didn’t attempt any more sudden-stop drops. Otherwise, he did just fine. Techno didn’t expect anything less from someone like Phil. Even after so many years, Phil still managed to impress Techno with his skill in flight. 

And given the way that Ranboo tracked his every dip and dive with wide-eye wonder, Techno wasn’t the only one who got a kick out of it. The voices rattled on about it too, though there were no surprises there. 

Eventually, Phil made one last turn (wide and careful, just like all the others) and advanced on the hilltop. His wings pumped to slow him down as he prepared to land, but he still seemed to come in too quick. Phil sputtered a short string of curses as he tried to run the last few steps, tripped, and lost his balance, only saved from face planting into the snow by pinwheeling his arms and flailing his wings. A couple seconds later, he froze, wings puffed out and arms suspended to either side, finally stabilized. His chest heaved with his rapid breaths, his cheeks burned with a chilly rose pink, and some of his hair had escaped the tie, now hanging frazzled on either side of his face. 

Then, he looked over to Techno with his shining blue eyes and gave him a grin as wide as the sky itself. 

Techno let a hint of a smile pull at his lips. “You have fun?”

A breathless laugh tumbled past his lips. “Uh,  _ yeah _ .”

“You looked great, Philza!” said Ranboo. “How was it?”

Phil straightened himself out, dropping his arms and folding up his wings. “Not bad, for the most part. Well, of course it felt fucking  _ amazing  _ to be up in the air again.” He rolled out his shoulders, wings shifting with the movement. There gave a slight wince and a grunt, though Phil didn’t appear too bothered by whatever discomfort it was. “Back’s still a little sore, but I expected that. It’s just those narrower turns that give me so much trouble.” 

“I noticed,” agreed Techno, eyes flicking to the appendages in question. “Think it’s a problem?”

“Ah, doubt it. It’s just a bit out there for where I’m at right now. Same goes for doing a mid-free fall stop. Sure, I can do it, but it’s not the greatest feeling, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Told ya you were showin’ off.”

“Oh, like  _ you’re  _ so modest, Mister ‘Blood God’.” 

“Hey, I didn’t choose that title - I  _ earned _ it.”

“Uh-huh, sure thing, Techno. Talk to me again when you’ve  _ genuinely _ been deified.” 

“I mean, he sorta has?” Ranboo piped up. Phil gave him a funny look, and he elaborated, “Some of the stories I’ve read kinda make him out to be some ‘immortal entity of blood and chaos’ so that’s... _ kinda _ being called a god? Maybe? Depending on who you ask?”

“...So what you’re sayin’,” began Techno, gears turning in his head, “is that I could feasibly have my own cult.”

“Uh, to be honest with you, I’d be surprised if you didn’t already have one somewhere.”

A sharp laugh burst out of Phil. “Oh, great, that’s just what his ego needs.”

“Quiet Phil, these are important matters.” A grin spread across his face as he decided, “You know what Ranboo? Forget the monuments and mansions -  _ I _ know what we’re doing for our next road trip.”

The kid laughed, a baffled, amused, possibly slightly nervous sound. “Oh no, don’t tell me - ”

“We’re looking for my cult.” 

“Well, if you’re gonna do that, it shouldn’t be too hard to find,” remarked Phil, adjusting his wrinkled cloak. He pulled his bucket hat out of his inventory menu with a flick of his wrist and tugged it on his head firmly. “Just follow the smell of blood and potatoes.”

**_-_** **_A cult Cult pog All hail blood potato god Arent we a cult? Cult Cults What about us???? Cult Gods Cults We’re a better cult Technos leaving us for his cult smh Blood cult Cult No wait dont leave us!!!! Cult Blood cult Weve been abandoned guys f -_**

They were walking down the path toward the house when Chat’s possessive jealousy swiftly turned into abandonment issues, and Techno rolled his eyes at their theatrics. While Phil prattled on about flight patterns to an all-too-eager Ranboo, Techno flicked open the holographic screen of his communicator and typed out a message to them. 

_ <Technoblade> dont be dramatic chat im not leaving you _

Their response was more or less just a wave of pure appreciation, cloyingly sweet, with a few coherent shouts of “Technosupport!” and “ily!!” Techno, repulsed by the affection, deleted what he had in the text box and clarified:

_ <Technoblade> guys i am physically incapable of getting rid of you so its not like I can leave you either way _

_ <Technoblade> stop callin me nice  _

As always, what he said had little to no effect on what Chat decided to hyperfocus themselves on; so, as he followed Phil and Ranboo down the hill, he had to deal with thousands of disembodied voices shouting at each other about how ‘great’ he was while simultaneously giving him a headache. Phil, thank the gods, had a sixth sense for whenever Chat was giving him trouble (apparently his face did something funny when it happened), so he didn’t try to engage him in conversation. Besides, he seemed to be having plenty of fun getting to ramble about something he loved so much to a willing audience. Techno wondered how much of it Ranboo would actually remember, or if he would write it down somewhere. 

All things considered, it was a decent morning. Phil was back on his feet (er, wings?), Ranboo was being Ranboo, and Chat was more or less tolerable. Techno was not one to be recklessly optimistic, but he had a good feeling about today. 

As he and Phil left Ranboo to continue his renovations and headed inside the cabin, Techno felt his communicator buzz. 

_ <BadBoyHalo> Hello Technoblade. Are you available to meet in a couple days? _

_ <BadBoyHalo> I have something that you might be interested in. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just realized now that I uploaded this work without adding it to the series, sorry if that caused any confusion. It should all be fixed now (also ao3 is giving me some serious issues tonight istg).


	2. Too Many Voices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop whoop chapter 2, the part that's actually based off the stream lmaoooo. Sorry if this fic is a mess, it just be like that sometimes :)
> 
> I forgot to mention that this chapter has some references to another fic in the series "Neighbors (and nothing more)." so again, you might be confused if you haven't read that one.

If Techno was being honest (and he was always, one hundred percent honest), this ‘Egg’ thing was a joke. No, really, it was. Oh, and it was a headache. In fact, he meant ‘headache’ in the most literal sense possible because ever since he got that message from Bad, it was all Chat had been able to talk about. It was always ‘Egg’ this and ‘Egg’ that,  _ constantly _ . He almost missed their chants for violence. 

Then there was also the fact that Bad came to talk to Techno an entire day early,  _ unannounced _ . Techno had been hanging out with Ranboo, showing him his new pet bear Steve when the shadowed man drifted up the stairs and rat-tap-tapped a clawed hand on his living room door. Ranboo practically dove down into the storage room at the sound of it, not wanting to be seen. He hissed to Techno about having a less-than-pleasant run-in with one of the other disciples of the Egg in the past. Techno didn’t question it. He didn’t have the energy to. The whole situation had put him in a bad mood.

So that was why he decided to have fun with it. This essentially boiled down to doing everything in his power to irk Bad, who was clearly trying to take this meeting very, very seriously. Yeah, Techno probably should have too, especially when he saw the mainland absolutely overrun with ‘blood vines’  _ and _ when he realized Ranboo was tagging along (the kid was determined to see what was happening for himself, apparently). Instead, he brought Steve with him and crafted himself a makeshift farming scythe so he could cut through the vines along the way. He found it immensely entertaining to watch Bad shudder and squirm every time a vine was cut, tail flicking with discomfort; he hardly raised an eyebrow when Bad whirled around and gave him a white-hot glare in response.

  
Rather ironically, when it came time to confront this supposed ‘Egg’ in person, nearly the entirety of Chat shrieked at him to turn around and run. He didn’t, purely on the fact that if he did, he would have walked all the way to the mainland for nothing. So he followed Bad into the narrow network of passages that connected the underground facilities of the Dream SMP and took a turn down a tunnel lined with corrupted vines. 

The cavern they entered  _ reeked _ of death and blood, too warm for being so deep underground, and the pervasive red crawled over every surface and every wall, hung from every ledge and every crack. Nothing was spared. Techno was suddenly glad that he left his nicer boots at home.

Behind him, he just barely made out the footsteps of Ranboo following at a distance. He wasn’t exactly the most stealthy, though, stumbling over a blood vine loudly enough to make Bad pause and glance over his shoulder, shadows flickering with suspicion. While he wasn’t looking, Techno sent a speedy message to the kid.

_ You whisper to Ranboo: hide. stay low _

“Somethin’ the matter?” Techno asked, if only to draw the disciple’s attention away. 

It worked. Bad’s empty gaze darted to him. “...No.” He carried on.

Just before Techno followed, he stole a look behind him. He considered it a good thing that he wasn’t able to spot Ranboo. 

Wading through the rest of the infestation, Bad led him to the back of the room to where this infamous Egg resided. It loomed in the corner, its fleshy outer shell pulsing like a heart.

“Get close,” the disciple urged him in a reverent murmur, bottomless white eyes shining with pure delectation. “Listen…”

Not sure what to expect, Techno approached the Egg. He bit back a gag, turned his ear to the pulsating mass, and listened.

He frowned as a low hiss dragged itself through his head like a dagger upon a wooden board. 

Chat’s response was immediate.

**_\- NO NO NO NO GET OUT EGG BAD EGG BAD THERES NO ROOM FOR MORE VOICES OUT OUT OUT STOP HE IS OURS GET OUT EGG BAD GET OUT OF HIS HEAD WE ARE THE ONLY VOICES HERE STOP EGG BAD OUT OUT OUT THIS IS OUR DOMAIN LEAVE -_ **

“...Didja hear it?” prodded Bad, tone high and light. Most of his features were consumed by darkness, though Techno could see the way his eyes crinkled with what he had to assume was a face-splitting, maniacal grin.

“Ehh,” Techno drawled, tilting his hand in a so-so motion. “Kinda?”

Bad’s eyes sharpened. “Listen again.”

Techno resisted the urge to roll his eyes and leaned in once more.

“Bad?! What’re you doing?!”

Techno tilted his head to the side. “Huh. The Egg kinda sounds like Puffy.”

The disciple growled, clenching his hands into fists. “No no  _ no _ !” Bad spun around. His red-drained cloak fanned out behind him as his shadows flared. “Get out of here! Techno and I are busy!”

The captain, colorful woolen locks and all, emerged from the jungle of blood vines, cutting down the cursed vegetation with a keen netherite sword as she went. As she looked up at them, her eyes widened. “Techno?”

“Hullo, Puffy. It’s nice to finally meet you face to face.”

As Techno would quickly learn, Puffy was  _ very  _ against the Egg, and Techno could see why. First of all, as stated previously, the Egg was a joke. Its  _ leading disciple _ was a joke. The very medium with which Bad promised him anarchy turned out to be a government (even worse, an  _ empire _ ) in and of itself, and within minutes, Bad had talked himself into a corner. According to Puffy - a source that he trusted far more than the power-obsessed missionary - the Egg was a malignant entity that took its followers by force and sought to kill those who dared to oppose it or deny it.

And its voice - Techno almost wanted to laugh. “Look, it’s a little hard to distinguish over all the other voices chanting, ‘Egg bad, Egg bad, kill the Egg,’” he said to the flustered disciple. 

“Did - Did you hear  _ anything _ it said?” asked Puffy, brows furrowed in concern.

Techno huffed. “It said a lot of things, alright?”

Admittedly, he  _ did _ hear it once, was able to decipher the whispers. It spoke of glory, more than he could ever imagine, battles and violence and power beyond his wildest dreams, endless wars from which he would emerge adorned with crimson victory. In short, it promised him blood should he join their ranks. 

**_\- NO OUT EGG BAD EGG BAD EGG BAD LEAVE OUT OUT OUT NO KILL IT BURN IT OUT LEAVE EGG BAD EGG BAD BURN KILL BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD -_ **

Techno knew, however, that he was bound to have blood regardless of whatever offers the Egg made him. It was inevitable. 

So, yeah. The Egg was a joke. It was a repulsive, long-winded, headache of a joke whose punchline fell flat and left everyone with a foul taste in their mouths. Techno had better things to do, like speaking to his new potential recruit. He was done here.

...Until Ranboo was spotted.

Techno tried to cause a distraction, tiptoeing away to get Bad to chase him down. As he slipped into the passage, he sent another short message to Ranboo, telling him to run. Unfortunately, Ranboo had elected to hide instead of flee, and the shady disciple sniffed him out in under a minute. When Bad had dragged him from his hiding spot, he tilted his head and crept in closer towards the kid, shadows rolling dangerously. “Ranboo,” he greeted, voice lilting with false pleasantry. “Have I introduced you to my good friend, the Egg?”

“Careful, Bad,” Puffy warned, extending her sword so the blade came to rest between the disciple and the kid. “Wouldn’t want to step on his shoes.”

Ranboo leaned back, eyes trained on the vine-ridden cobble beneath his feet. “I-I-I don’t know, uh, I don’t - not recently, I don’t think?”

“Well, come on, then,” said Bad. He took a few steps back and motioned for him to follow. “Let me introduce you.”

“Uh, that - er, n-no?”

Bad’s pointed tail whipped around his ankles, and he parroted, voice laced with thorny displeasure, “ _ No _ ?”

**_\- RANBOO NO NOT HIM!!! GET AWAY! RANBOO!!! EGG BAD GET AWAY OUT OUT OUT OUT -_ **

Techno did  _ not _ like his tone. He joined Puffy in holding out his sword, another warning to the shadow to watch where he was stepping, because Bad was on  _ thin ice _ , as far as Techno was concerned. 

“Yeah, _ no _ , uhm - I-I think I might be…slightly allergic...? To eggs…?”

Bad scoffed. “No one’s allergic to eggs.”

“Well that’s just not true,” Techno monotoned.

“Unless they  _ are _ ,” the disciple tacked on without a thought.

“Ah, yes, of course. No one’s ‘x’ unless they’re ‘x’.”

Bad ignored him, turning back to Ranboo with his white void eyes. A dull clicking sound reached Techno’s ears, and it took him a second to realize that the noise was coming from Ranboo’s  _ jaw _ . (What the heck.) “Are you quite sure you’re allergic to Eggs, Ranboo? Wouldn’t you like to see the Egg for yourself?”

“Hey now,” said Puffy, lips pulling into a dry half-smile, “that’s not cool, Bad, he already said no. You don’t want to peer pressure him, do you?”

“Oh, peer pressure,” acknowledged Techno, “I have a bit of experience with that. Not fun.”

“No, er, not fun, not at all,” Ranboo sputtered, head shaking minutely. Techno could see his fingers trembling from where his hands hung uncertainly at his sides. 

Bad was quiet for a few seconds before he leaned back, shadows settling on his shoulders and hanging about his legs like condensing fog. “You know what? You’re right, you’re right.” Then, he turned on his heel and started to stroll away. “In fact, we’re done down here. We’re leaving. Follow me, guys. I’ll lead us out.”

Techno’s ear flicked, and he exchanged a wary glance with Puffy, but they started moving regardless. “Aaaalright. Single file.”

“I understand your hesitance,” Bad continued, briefly looking over his shoulder to check if they were following. Once he was sure, he carried on up the stone stairs. “Truly, I do. But you know what? I’ve got an idea - we can talk about this elsewhere. I have a picnic table set up on the surface. We can have a nice little luncheon over there.”

As far as picnic tables went, it ranked very low on Techno’s list.

While they were seated around said table discussing the Egg, Techno looked away for two seconds to tend to Steve, and all of a sudden, Bad had summoned his sword and was lunging at Ranboo. The apprehension and mounting hostility bubbling within Techno spilled over in an instant. With the voices demanding the disciple’s shadows be torn to shreds, to find out for himself if Bad bled crimson or darkness, Techno barreled into the fight alongside a similarly enraged Puffy. The otherworldly cry of netherite on netherite and enchantment on enchantment rang in Techno’s ears as he brought his sword around to carve a shallow slice across Bad’s chestplate. He scowled at nothing but the fact that he hadn’t cut deeper.

Bad’s shadows hurried after him as he darted to the side, narrowly avoiding Puffy’s blade as he slammed a small button installed in the side of the table. There was a click, and Ranboo - who was backpedaling with his sword in hand, looking for an opening - stumbled. And then he was gone. 

Ranboo had fallen  _ through the table _ . 

“GOT ‘IM!” crowed the disciple. He laughed as Techno rushed at him again, uncaring of the slice Techno put through his arm and the resulting void that splashed against the wall behind him. Puffy lunged at him too, but when she tried to cut through him, her blade met nothing but midnight mist. The fog slinked across the floor, crept up the wall, and slithered through a barred window in the red brick structure. 

Bad’s crazed cackle echoed all around them. “Have fun, Ranboo!”

Techno snarled at the window through which Bad had disappeared. Chat roared for him to chase after the slippery shadow, and Techno was compelled to do just that, adrenaline thrumming through his veins like a jetstream as he flexed his fingers around his sword. 

“Oh no, not again...” It was Puffy’s fearful groan that stopped Techno from pursuing his target. He spun around to see the captain had knelt down by the hatch in the table, peering through the hole with drooping ears. “Not again…”

“Whaddya mean, ‘not again’?” demanded Techno as he hastened over to the hatch to look down the chasm himself. He could just barely make out the form of Ranboo standing at the very bottom, a pinprick in his vision, as well as what had to be water collected down there. He was glad the kid had decided to wear his armor that day.

“This hole feeds into an obsidian chamber directly on top of the Egg. Bad trapped my friend Sam down there once. When Tommy and I broke him out, we discovered that the Egg tried to corrupt him. He’d resisted, but…” She swallowed hard, slitted eyes downcast. “Sam wasn’t himself, and he was  _ very  _ weak.”

“Then we gotta get Ranboo out of the hole,” Techno decided immediately. At the same time, he took any and all anxiety and shoved it to the back of his mind because panic would offer exactly  _ zero _ help right now. He cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted down the hole, “RANBOO! RANBOO, CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

A distant call came from the below, words garbled into unintelligible echoes as they rattled up the narrow walls. The sound barely reached their ears. Techno was just about to shout again when his communicator buzzed.

_ <Ranboo> vc4  _

Both Puffy and Techno took a second to rifle around in their pockets and find their earpieces, which were hastily jammed into place. At nearly the same time, they joined the VC.

“Ranboo?” Techno tried again. “Can you hear us?”

The audio crackled a bit as the connection was secured, and suddenly, Ranboo’s quavering voice sounded over the line.  _ “Uhm, T-Techno, I’m - I’m stuck, I don’t - can’t - ” _

“Ranboo,” said Techno, cutting off his nervous ramble. If Techno didn’t have time to panic, then no one did. He needed the kid to keep his head on his shoulders. “ _ Think _ , Ranboo. There’s water down there, right? Do you have your trident?”

“Yeah, use your trident,” Puffy agreed quickly. “I think it should be enough to get you out of there.”

_ “I-I , uhm, I left - it’s - I don’t have it, I-I don’t have my trident on me, it’s a-at home, I left - ” _

“Okay, I’ll throw my trident down.” Techno popped his inventory open, and the weapon materialized in his hand.

“Catch!” Puffy called out as Techno let the weapon fall. A couple seconds later, there was a splash over the line.

_ “Uuuhm, okay, this...” _ Techno could hear the clink of the trident’s cool metal on Ranboo’s netherite gauntlets; Ranboo sucked in a tremulous breath. Techno didn’t see him make any attempts to fly out.  _ “I don’t… This isn’t good, this isn’t good, I…” _

“Ranboo, that’s my only trident,” Techno reminded, feeling his throat tighten with an emotion he refused to acknowledge. Chat wasn’t helping. He could feel their concern rolling through his chest, their panic jittering through his hands, and their worries ringing in his head. (Was it all his own? He didn’t care to think so.)

“C’mon, you can do it, Ranboo,” said the captain, her voice a gentle urging, a hopeful encouragement. “Just use the trident, you’ve got this, buddy.”

Silence over the line save for the sloshing of water and labored breathing. A second later, Ranboo began to mumble again, words just barely picked up by the mic:  _ “This isn’t...uhm...this - I...I can’t - ” _

“Let’s give him some space,” Techno decided for lack of anything else to do as Ranboo senselessly stammered. Puffy nodded, muttering her agreement as they both stood and took a few steps back. “Let’s give him some room, yeah - Ranboo?”

_ “ - this isn’t good - I didn’t - I didn’t do that, stop, please - ” _

“Ranboo, just come up.”

_ “ - I can’t, it’s...I didn’t do - I wouldn’t...don’t call me that, I’m not - ” _

“The  _ trident _ , Ranboo!”

_ “ - I didn’t- the tri...trident, right, the trident, I’ll…” _

It was a difficult process, getting him out of the waterlogged chamber. Puffy had been wrong in her estimation of the hole’s length, so Techno eventually tossed down his sack of ender pearls so Ranboo might be able to combine both methods and reach the surface. After a few failed attempts, Ranboo finally angled his throw correctly, and the pearl landed in the room instead of hitting the walls of the tunnel. He materialized beside Techno in a hiss of displaced air and a flash of ender particles. 

Techno hadn’t known what he was expecting to see when Ranboo appeared, but the hybrid trembling like a leaf caught in a storm, breath nothing but short huffs of air, and two-toned eyes drooping and blinking dizzily was  _ not  _ it. He’d heard Ranboo’s anxiety-ridden rambles over the VC, sure, but  _ this _ ? The way that he nearly crumpled to his knees upon appearance, trident rattling out of his shaky grasp and clattering to the floor? How his arms wrapped around himself and his clawed gauntlets dug into the sleeves of his armor fiercely enough to leave scratches? The small, barely audible warble in the back of his throat?

It reminded him of an incident a couple weeks prior, of a kid found curled up on his side in the bottom of a dirt pit, shivering, distressed, alone. And as the memory was dragged up, emotions got caught on its jagged lips and edges like thick woolen cloaks got caught on the bramble of wintry bushes, pulling away the looser strands of fabric that had not been properly hemmed. 

Techno knew what they were.

Worry. Chest-aching worry, coupled with a little drop of dread in the pit of his stomach for what he recognized in the kid’s current state. 

A want. A burning want (perhaps a need?) to reach out and alleviate Ranboo’s pain, perhaps offer comfort of some sort. Such a desire was reserved for very few people - until now, only one. 

He very easily could have taken these sensations and shelved them, boxed them away to be dealt with at a later date. 

He didn’t want to. 

So Techno strode ahead of Puffy, trying to get closer to Ranboo while also making sure that the concerned captain didn’t get  _ too _ close, stopping her with an arm out to the side. She opened her mouth to protest, but when Techno gave her a firm look, she seemed to get the idea. Raising up her hands in mild surrender, she took a step back.

Techno shifted his gaze back to the kid, who still stood shaking. He’d pushed his back against the wall, and he worked his jaw, mouth popping open and closed like an air-drowned fish. Another distorted sound bubbled out of his throat. 

“Ranboo,” Techno said, beating the tightness out of his voice. When Ranboo didn’t respond, he took another step closer, trying to get into the kid’s field of view without crowding him. “Ranboo, you hearin’ me?”

Recognition flashed in those dazed eyes. Ranboo lifted his head ever so slightly, enough for their gazes to briefly meet before the kid let out another garbled whine and looked away, sucking in a sharp breath. Static clung to the edges of his words as he choked out, “H...hear...you…”

Techno felt some of the tension in his shoulders fade. Alright, so the kid wasn’t completely gone like he had been back then. Techno didn’t know much about dissociation, but Ranboo seemed to be at the tipping point, toeing the line between remaining present and falling away. What was it that Phil had done to pull him out of it? Touch him? Techno wasn’t sure if it would be welcome, but for the moment, it was all that he had to work with.

He approached slowly. Doing his best to telegraph his movements and give Ranboo every chance to pull away, Techno lifted an armored hand and placed it on Ranboo’s forearm, settling the weight on his netherite vambrace. He did it like he eased Phil’s wings while he was asleep, a gradual pressure that never exceeded what was necessary.

  
“Feel that?” he asked. “You’re here. You’re...real.” Techno wasn’t entirely sure what he needed to say, but the problem with dissociating was the fact that Ranboo lost himself, right? So the only logical conclusion would be to remind him that he wasn’t gone, similar to how Techno reminded Phil that he wasn’t in the cell and the Clamps weren’t there.

When Ranboo gave a tiny, jerking nod, Techno decided to say it again. “You’re real. You’re you. Your name is Ranboo. I’m Techno.” He jerked his head to the side. “That’s Puffy.” 

The captain gave a little wave and a friendly smile. “Hi, Ranboo.”

And Techno said it one last time, just to drive the point home. “You’re here. You’re good. You’re real.”

“I-I’m real,” Ranboo whispered, almost like he couldn’t believe it. “I’m here.”

“Yup, you’re about as ‘here’ as it gets.” Techno gently patted Ranboo’s arm, netherite clinking. “I mean, your armor is here, which means your arm’s gotta be here too, which  _ probably _ implies that the rest of you is also here. I don’t really see any other options. In fact, I am  _ so _ undoubtedly certain that you’re here right now that if you’re not, I’ll eat my cloak.”

“Your cloak?” Puffy piped up. “Like, would you just take a bite out of it, or...?”

“Nah, I’ll eat the whole thing.”

A shaky breath tumbled out of Ranboo - it took Techno a second to realize it was supposed to be a laugh. “A-Are you sure you, uh, wanna say that? ‘Cause - ‘Cause your cloak’s... _ kinda _ big.”

“Well, that’s how sure I am,” Techno answered easily. “I’m not gonna have to eat my cloak because you’re here and very real... You’re all good, Ranboo.”

**_\- Awwww soft Ranboos back! Technosoft Technosoft This is nice Technosoft -_ **

Techno decidedly ignored Chat. Way to ruin the moment. 

“You know, maybe we should get out of here,” suggested Puffy. “Let’s go outside. I don’t like this room.” She chuckled lowly, scuffing her boot on the smooth bricks underfoot. “Not gonna lie, Techno, red is starting to become an eyesore around here.”

“Couldn’t imagine why,” Techno deadpanned, “but, yes, that sounds like a great idea.”

“I-I, uh…” Ranboo clicked his jaw one last time before his mouth finally stopped gaping for good. “I’d actually...like to - to go home…if that’s alright.”

Now that he wasn’t alight with nervous energy, Ranboo’s voice was meek, drained of all excitement, positive or not. Techno recalled that the kid had also not slept much the night before, if at all. He’d spent the past few days almost feverishly working on his house, and he’d stayed up through the night to put the final touches on the rather impressive structure, determined to see if he could finish it before morning. While Techno knew that Ranboo was no stranger to long nights, today had been unexpectedly eventful for him. Ranboo had planned to spend the day relaxing and hanging out with Techno and Steve while Phil went out on a long day flight.

And then Bad showed up a day early. And everything went downhill from there.

“Yeah, we can go. I’ve seen enough of the mainland to last me a  _ long  _ while.” He patted Ranboo’s arm one more time and turned to Puffy. “Well, besides the whole Egg...cult..government...thing - I still have absolutely no idea what it is Bad’s running over here, by the way - ”

“To be honest, I don’t get it either,” said the captain, equally baffled. 

“ - Yeah, well, besides all that, it’s been a pleasure.” Techno picked up his trident, dusted off the flecks of Egg substance that permeated through the bricks, and dropped it into his inventory. “We’ll have to meet up again soon to have a proper discussion concerning the, uh,  _ proposition _ I put forth, preferably with Phil around.”

Puffy nodded. “I’ll be sure to keep in touch.”

With that, Techno and Ranboo departed from the worst picnic table in the history of picnic tables. Hoping to give the other hybrid something to do, Techno took Steve’s lead and handed it to Ranboo, telling him that he should walk the polar bear back to the Arctic. Ranboo, being the polite kid that he was, happily accepted the rope and set about leading Steve as they traversed the cobble paths. Techno took the opportunity to tear through as many of the blood vines as he could, hoping that, wherever Bad had skittered off to, he was shuddering at every cut and slice. Served him right. 

They didn’t talk for the duration of their Overworld travel, since - well, Techno wouldn’t exactly call himself a conversationalist, and Ranboo was probably busy processing what just happened while also trying to keep Steve from wandering off. It wasn’t until they were navigating the network of precariously constructed Nether highways that Ranboo spoke.

“I-I have a question.”

The phrase came out in a rush, like it’d been caught in his throat and had just dislodged itself. Techno turned around to look at the kid and saw him worrying at the lead in his hands. Sensing a heavy topic, Techno slowed his stride and stepped off towards the side of the highway so that Ranboo could walk a little more beside him than behind him, though there wasn’t  _ quite _ enough room for them to safely walk shoulder to shoulder. Steve plodded after them thoughtlessly.

“...Alright,” said Techno, after a moment’s consideration. “Shoot.”

“Okay, so, uhm, I think I heard you mention earlier that you hear voices…?”

Techno racked his brain. When had he - ? Ohh, right, it was when Bad was demanding to know if Techno heard the Egg speak. The look on the disciple’s face when he told him what Chat was saying was...well, Techno didn’t know what it looked like since the only part of Bad that was easily visible were his uncanny white eyes, but he imagined that his face would’ve been priceless. He hadn’t really thought much about what he said at the time, though. Techno was just so used to talking about Chat’s shenanigans since the only person he consistently talked to (besides Ranboo) nowadays was Phil. And Chat  _ loved _ Phil.

They also loved Ranboo, for that matter. Did Techno care if Ranboo knew about Chat? 

To his mild amazement, he found that he didn’t.

“Oh, yeah, I hear voices,” was Techno’s nonchalant reply. There was a surge of ‘hi!’s and ‘hello!’s from Chat, and he resisted the urge to wince at the racket. “I  _ definitely _ hear voices. Hundreds of thousands of them.”

“Wow, uh, that’s a lot.”

“Yup.”

“Who does it - er, who do  _ they _ sound like to you?”

“Ehh, they don’t really sound like anyone in particular,” Techno explained, tilting his head to the side like it would let him hear them better. Obviously, it didn’t. “They’re just a bunch of voices. Random people - except I don’t think they’re actual people, they’re just the sounds, ya know? I call ‘em Chat.”

“‘Chat’?”

“Yeah. Now, do me a favor and  _ never  _ acknowledge them or say hello. They already lose their minds whenever Phil does, so I don’t need  _ two  _ people riling them up. Trust me, they manage that pretty well on their own.”

“O-Oh, okay, I can do that.”

They lapsed into silence then, nothing but the clunk of their greaves upon the obsidian paths and the rush of hollow, hot winds to fill the air. Every now and then, a grumble emitted from somewhere in Steve’s chest, probably complaining about the heat. Each time, Ranboo would reach back and pat the polar bear on the head, running his claws through his thick, ashy fur. 

A minute later, Ranboo spoke up a second time. “I was only asking because…” He hesitated. Techno glanced at Ranboo out of the corner of his eye and saw the kid fiddling with the lead again. Techno didn’t say anything, but he  _ did _ tilt his head a little just to let the hybrid know he was listening.

Ranboo tried once more. Words picked with precision, he confessed, “I was only asking because I hear voices too.”

WELL.  _ That _ was not what Techno was expecting to hear. He resisted the urge to stop dead in his tracks and stare at the kid in wide-eyed shock, realizing that it probably wouldn’t be the best choice to wig him out. He already had Chat to deal with anyway. At Ranboo’s admission, they started screaming over each other, a jumble of sound that Techno wasn’t inclined to sort out. 

“Well, uh, I guess voice singular. I only hear one.”

Realizing that the conversation was still going, Techno pulled himself out of his own head and focused on walking. He forced his stride to remain calm and steady as he monotoned, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, i-it’s - it’s true. I hear a voice. Sometimes.”

“Does it sound like someone, or is it your own? Because if it’s your own, then I hate to break it to you, Ranboo, but, ah, that’s just your conscience - and I’d be more worried if you  _ didn’t _ hear it.”

Ranboo chuckled, a nervous little sound. “Uh, no, i-it’s definitely not my own voice. It’s...well… It’s Dream’s voice, actually…?”

Techno’s eyes darted over to the kid. “Dream? You hear  _ Dream _ ?”

“Yeah. It….tells me things. Says things I don't remember.”

“Oh, Chat does that for me too,” said Techno. “They tell me things I don’t know all the time.”

“No, I mean - not like that. It’s more, uh - You know how sometimes you’ll see me just kinda...walking around?

Techno narrowed his eyes, mulling it over. “I don’t think so, but for the sake of argument, let’s say I have.”

“Well, that’s what I’ve started calling my ‘enderwalk’...thing. It’s like sleepwalking but...not? I don’t think I  _ have _ to be asleep to start enderwalking, but I do sometimes. A lot of the time, it just sorta...happens.”

Something clicked in Techno’s head, and he nodded. “Ah, yeah, Phil said that he ran into you shambling around the Prime Path in your sleep. Is that what you’re callin’ ‘enderwalking’?”

“Uh-huh. Thing is, I don’t remember what happens when I enderwalk, so, uh, the voice? Yeah, it’s sort of like the bridge between me and enderwalk-me. The voice tells me what I don’t remember about...a-about enderwalking. What I do. Or what it claims I do.  _ Sometimes _ , I...I don’t think it tells me the truth, o-or it just doesn’t tell me everything…”

“And you said this voice sounds like Dream,” Techno reiterated. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ranboo bob his head. “I don’t like to - I don’t know why it sounds like Dream. But it does. It...most  _ definitely _ sounds like him.”

Techno heard Ranboo suck in a fortifying breath. 

“Why I’ve brought this up is because, uhm, I was just wondering…” 

Another pause. 

...And then he blurted: “Look I don’t one hundred percent know what triggers the enderwalks but I know that hearing the voice  _ does _ trigger it sometimes and I’ve tried to get rid of it in the past but it hasn’t worked and I don’t like the idea of me walking around doing possibly harmful things and not remembering it because my memory  _ sucks so much _ so I was just wondering if maybe you knew anything about getting rid of voices…?”

Techno bit back a sigh at the hopeful upturn of Ranboo’s tone, knowing that all he was going to give the kid was disappointment. (It was fine, though. Techno was disappointed by his -  _ their _ \- unfortunate reality too.) “I don’t know how to get rid of voices, Ranboo. If I did, then I would’ve gotten rid of Chat ages ago.” 

He ignored the surge of objections, bitter and sorrowful, that came in at that remark. It was the truth. Chat had to get over it.

“Oh… O-Okay…”

Techno didn’t turn around, because he knew that all he would see was seven feet’s worth of defeated enderman hybrid looking back at him, probably all hunched in on himself with his pointed ears drooping pathetically. There was no turning his back on the fact that he felt incredibly useless, though. Techno didn’t know the full extent of what was going on between Ranboo and Dream, and he didn’t understand why in the world Ranboo had that unhinged homeless man’s voice yapping in his ear, but he  _ did _ know what it was like to have something else occupying a space that should have been yours and yours alone. 

Techno could remember a time before his mind was taken over by thousands of ghosts chanting for blood and violence. The memories were distant, foggy fragments now, but they were still there, an unobtainable peace that he’d long since stopped hoping for. 

Likewise, Techno could remember the first few months of Chat’s presence, back when he was a maturing piglin hybrid, about twelve years old. The growing chorus of laughs and screams and conversations that no one else could hear had driven him up the wall. He’d nearly torn himself apart a few times.

He had learned to live with it (like he’d had any other choice). 

However, he by no means enjoyed it. And while he couldn’t say that he didn’t wish it on anyone, because that just wasn’t true - he could think of several people he would like nothing more than to inflict with a thousand voices of the damned - he  _ could _ agree that it was not an easy situation to handle. The only reason Techno was able to function moderately well was because he’d had Chat in his head for decades. And he had Phil.

Ranboo was just a kid, though, something like sixteen or seventeen years old. Or the standard equivalent of. Techno didn’t know how aging worked for enderman hybrids.

Regardless, Ranboo was just a kid like Techno had been.

_So_ , Techno should have been able to help _somehow_ , in _some_ _way_. 

But he couldn’t think of anything. 

...Except for maybe  _ one _ little thing. 

“I don’t know how to get rid of voices,” Techno began, “but I  _ do _ know what it’s like to have ‘em... It sucks.”

Techno mentally face-palmed at that last remark.  _ Really? ‘It sucks’? That’s the best you could come up with? _

But it made Ranboo chuckle, and while the laugh was little more than self-aware bitterness, it was a laugh nonetheless. (Techno could count that as a win, right?) “I-It kinda does.”

“Yeah, so, what I’m tryna get at is…” His words faltered. (Gods, was he really doing this?) “... I wouldn’t exactly call myself the  _ best _ at conversation, but if you ever need to, I dunno,  _ vent _ about hearin’ someone or something else in your head to someone who gets it, I’m usually around the cabin. Phil doesn’t have voices in his head, but he’s helped me deal with Chat in the past. I know for a fact he’d be more than happy to give you a hand.”

Phil also knew a thing or two about dealing with panic attacks from personal experience and was better equipped than Techno to give Ranboo a hug should he need it. That sort of thing was a  _ bit _ outside of Techno’s wheelhouse.

When Ranboo didn’t respond right away, Techno added, “It’s just an offer, though, you don’t gotta take me up on it.”

“Oh - Oh! No, I - sorry, I mean - thank you,” Ranboo sputtered. “Thank you, I-I think I’ll be taking you up on that. But, really, just... _ thanks _ , Techno.”

“‘Eah, I heard you the first time,” Techno grunted as they stepped off the obsidian path to follow the cobble road - the final stretch of the trek back home. Then, he had the sudden social awareness needed to belatedly add, “You’re welcome.”

The rest of the walk to their cabins in the Arctic felt lighter. Like a faucet that had been unclogged, Ranboo’s usual chattering filled the silence. He wasn’t exactly a boisterous motor mouth like a lot of the other kids (namely Tommy) Techno had encountered in his lifetime, but Ranboo could  _ talk _ if given reason to. However, Techno was pleasantly surprised to find that he was having no trouble keeping up with him.

Phil had told him once that words often needed an avenue to travel smoothly between people, a road paved by a mutual interest or goal.

And a mutual understanding, Techno discovered, worked just as well. 

So they talked all the way back to the cabins, the clean, white tundra like a salve for the eyes after the oceans of burning crimson they’d spent so long wading through. Techno had to admit, it was a nice change of pace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Just an idea that I had rattling around in my head that wouldn't give me peace until it was written. I'm excited for the next part of this series. Hint: it's more angst!! :D
> 
> Oh, and I have a couple headcanons about the character's ages in this series. Techno is technically 47 (if I did my math right lol) but Piglins mature at a younger age than humans (having the maturity of a 20yo adult at about 14 years old) and live for much longer (up to 150-ish years). So, Techno's relatively young, the human equivalent of about 25-30 years old I think. 
> 
> Philza on the other hand... Well, I want to hold onto that info incase I want to write something for it, but I will say that he's pretty Old - even by hybrid standards.
> 
> Ranboo's just whatever his irl and/or canon age is (all I know is that he's older than Tommy) and he has a slightly longer lifespan bc enderman.
> 
> Well, that's it from me. See y'all later, and I hope you have a good day/night! :)


End file.
